A Galaxy Drowning
by ManiacalMonocle
Summary: The galaxy is struggling to breathe. The galaxy is drawing its last breath when Shepard activated the Crucible. The crew of the Normandy fight together on earth as Shepard ends the cycle. Hammer's forward base is being overrun. Javik is cornered and running low on ammo. Javik must face his demons and his past as he struggles to survive.


What does a galaxy taking its last breath look like? Is it a squad of Asari biotics charging headlong into a swarm of banshees with no regard for the survival odds? Is it a turian dreadnought, intercepting a Reaper to give the volus bombing fleet one additional minute to take up position? Is it a human woman selling her favorite sky car just so her Salarian friend can have better armor? And who could possibly save a galaxy from drowning?

A shepherd. An ocean of death fights against them. Wave after wave of atrocity and death. An ocean that's drowning them. Shepard bears the weight of an entire galaxy, struggling to breathe. Those shoulders can only bear so much. How long can the galaxy tread water? How long can anyone play lifeguard for trillions?

Life demands sacrifice. Sacrifice to live. The Reapers are this law incarnate. They are the will of destruction, the embodiment of thousands of species. The Reapers have sacrificed to survive. They live on, sacrificing their essence, becoming monsters of flesh and metal in order to survive. Their morals are a different path. A different sacrifice.

And what is sacrifice? What path leads away from the Reapers? What future can exist without these monsters? And who can find this path? Who will guide life away from the ultimate apex that is the Reaper? Who will lead? Who will be their shepherd?

Sacrifice is death. Sacrifice is standing where no other organic has ever stood or ever will. Sacrifice is staring down the oldest intelligence in the universe long beyond the time where one should have died. Shepard had charged where none had survived, where Normandy could not follow. Shepard had walked halls and stood in rooms meant for no one and built by gods. Blood flowed freely from a frail human body. The only marker that Shepard yet lived.

Behind the commander was an eerie silence. Two bodies lay dead in a room never meant to hold life. An old soldier, an admiral tired in more ways than one, dead from a bullet delivered by his friend. The Cerberus leader, the terrorist, the zealot of humanity. A hole in his head marked his last act of defiance, his last chance to stand against the Reapers, to die by the morals that guided his life. The two idealist lay still, in a dead room.

As Shepard stood on the open Citadel and listened to the Catalyst outline the solutions, a galaxy struggled for its last breath. Sword was getting pounded hard. They were running intercept and harassment on the Reapers, trying to keep pressure off of shield fleet. Shield was standing their ground against a swarm of Reaper dreadnoughts. The might of their force was trying desperately to destroy the Catalyst, to secure the dominance of their solution. If the Crucible revealed new paths, they would become obsolete. They had to continue their solution, their importance had to be secured.

At the sight of the Crucible, their fight changed. The possibility of their extinction became evident. For the first time in all the cycles, the Reapers fought not to destroy, but to survive. Life demands sacrifice, and soon it would sacrifice them.

On earth, millions died by the second. Two forces collided, each compelled to survive, knowing their extinction would be decided in the next moment. The galaxy struggled for one more breath while the Reapers fought to maintain their dominance over life.

The last Prothean, an affront to the Reaper's cycle, fought on against a horde of his own demons. Each monster he shot down reminded him of yet another face of his comrades. Each shot from his rifle brought back images of slaughtering indoctrinated friends. He was isolated and far ahead of the defensive line. Alliance Marines were retreating back to the base but Javik fought on, carrying with him the nightmares of two cycles.

Archangel, the vigilante fighting for his people, was being ambushed by a squad of marauders supported by a pack of banshees. Each banshee's shriek pierced his soul, but never as much as the cold silence of each marauder. He loaded armor piercing rounds onto his assault rifle and popped over his cover to unload into the nearest banshee, whose shields had just fallen thanks to an overload shot from the quarian behind him.

Tali and Garrus were marooned on the roof of a parking garage near the Citadel beam. The Reaper forces were charging and slowly pushing them back. The rest of the squad was back at the forward command base surviving their own Reaper onslaught. Garrus and Tali held the rooftop wave after wave of the Reaper's push. The comms were alive with orders to retreat and fall back .

Just fifteen minutes ago Tali and Garrus had watched Shepard limp into the beam from their rooftop. Harbinger had made planetfall with a host of other Reaper dreadnoughts and wiped out Hammer. James and Kaidan had charged with Shepard but were ultimately pushed back by an overwhelming counter attack. They had retreated to the forward command base.

Javik, Garrus, and Tali were the only ones that had not yet fallen back to the command center. The base itself was barely holding: the dreadnoughts that had decimated Hammer had also hit the command base hard. Husks were already flooding into the right flank.

Liara T'soni, the infamous Shadow Broker, threw a singularity in the path of an incoming husk. The zombie-like creatures pouring into the right flank were pulled into the air while Marines provided cover fire for the asari. She ducked behind a dumpster to gather her strength. To her right, James Vega, the future N7, unleashed hellfire in the form of a geth spitfire.

A Geth Prime was administering medi-gel and providing cover for downed Marines as Vega and T'soni kept firing into the husks. "We must secure this flank before the old-machine forces overwhelm us!" shouted the geth over the firefight.

The roar of a krogan was heard over everything as Urdnot Wrex came to answer the geth's concerns. "Do I have to do everything around here?" Wrex shouted as he fired several shots from his shotgun into the husk hordes.

"Someone's gotta do the headbutting every once and a while," jested Liara as she lit up another singularity. Wrex and Vega finished off the remaining forces in the wave with combined fire. Liara joined in, supplying cover fire while more Geth Primes came to collect the wounded. The tight space of the alleyways meant the Primes supplied more than ample cover. Their large mechanical shoulders blocked cannibal fire and helped Hammer squad move up the alley to more permanent cover.

After they had collected the last Marine that could be saved they retreated back into the base. The Geth with giant red crosses on their armor to signal medic were a sight to see and many of the Alliance soldiers gave second looks to the assisting synthetics. Uniting the geth and quarians was just another miracle on the long list of impossibilities that had brought all these soldiers back to earth. They knew who had united them. They knew their debts to Shepard.

Another swarm of husks and cannibals arrived on the right flank and the soldiers readied themselves for the attack. Vega, Liara, and Wrex kept up a steady stream of bullets flowing into the alleyway while the Marines kept the husks from getting too close. Their combined fire was a delaying action and it was clear the right flank needed more reinforcements.

Reinforcements came in the shape of a squad of biotic support troops led by none other than Jack, the headcase turned headmaster. Her students brought up a series of biotic fields while more Alliance troops took up firing positions.

"How goes it Blue?" Jack asked of Liara.

"Just showing the humans how a real biotic fights," She chided. "Shepard made it to the beam," she said, pointing to the Citadel and its open arms. The armed Crucible and the Citadel were in clear view in the skies of London.

"We've just got to hold on!" Wrex shouted. "Shepard'll end this soon, I can feel it."

"Until then," James grunted as he chucked an incendiary grenade into the Reaper forces. "We've gotta secure this flank." The other soldiers joined him, pinning the enemy down. Six banshees appeared from behind cover and started making their way toward the soldiers.

"Dammit," Jack swore.

A disabled mako thankfully chose that moment to come flying overhead, thrown by Kaidan Alenko. The tank smashed into the banshees, killing them, if they could even be considered alive. It also provided much needed cover for their right flank. Soon troops of all races were pouring into the now protected side, reestablishing the defensive perimeter.

Liara and James turned back into the heart of the base as more soldiers moved to take up their position. They had been fighting Reapers at an increasing pace since Shepard had entered the beam. Right flank was safe but an enormous wave of husks was inbound for the front barricade. There was still a war to win.

* * *

Meanwhile, Javik was alone, surrounded by monsters and nightmares. He kept firing into the advancing enemy, screaming all the while. Brutes were slowly making their way towards his position as Javik downed scores of husks and cannibals. He could not hold his position indefinitely but he didn't show that he was aware. From behind concrete rubble he fired a hailstorm from his ancient Prothean rifle.

The rifle was a relic, just like he was, and he refused to let either of them die a relic's death. Theirs would be a death of Vengeance. He would fight these monsters. He would fight his own nightmares. A husk came close enough for Javik to beat it down with the butt of his gun. As he collapsed the abomination's skull, a familiar face flashed across his eyes. A cannibal came up from behind cover and he fired relentlessly into its four-eyed face. It reminded him too much of his fallen comrades.

Each shot was a painful memory, each cannibal a nightmare revisited. War is an atrocity committed in the name of survival. Javik kept surviving. As he fought on, he remembered all the atrocities he had committed. The recoil of his rifle reminded him of painful stabs in his chest during the battle of the Tirandi Veil.

The vivid image of a long, black blade exiting his chest came back to him. He could feel the cold metal slide out of his ribs and he was on that battlefield.

A Prothean face looks down on him. Vanen Kopp stares into Javik's eyes as he removes his blade. When the tip just leaves his skin, Vanen pushes the sword back into his ex-commander's chest with increased force. Vanen's face is corrupted and a grim smile slides across it as he twists the blade.

Javik screamed and brought his mind back to the battle at hand. A shot from a marauder had pierced his armor but he never let up. He ducked behind cover and took a lift grenade from his belt. He closed his four eyes and could see Vanen's face again. All his old crew's faces shot through his mind. He could see clearly their eyes as he slit each's throat on a cold night in the Cronian Nebula. They were dead. They were all dead. He knew this.

He wrenched his eyes open and lobbed his lift grenade into a squad of cannibals, wiping them out. He lifted his rifle and fired with renewed vigor. Each shot tore away at the nightmares in his head. In time he might be free of them, if he ever got the time. Another wave was coming to his position and all of Hammer had either retreated or died. He was alone, the last Prothean on the last battlefield in an endless cycle.

He was down to only two more grenades and was quick running out of ammo and medi-gel. He kept up a constant line of fire to his front, occasionally throwing a few shots to his left. He was cornered in ruins that now bore no sign of their original structure. The sight of rubble reminded him too much of his past. He had only ever fought in rubble. He wondered if he would ever be free of rubble, free to build and not tear down.

Just as he had thousands of years before, Javik stood amid the rubble and ashes of a battlefield. He was isolated in an ocean of toppled buildings, ruined structures, and burning plastics. The smell of the fumes were familiar to him and the sights of a dying civilization all too familiar.

He had holed up behind a collapsed column of concrete. On his sides were semi collapsed walls that provided cover and stopped the enemy from flanking him. Behind him and in front were open fields of rubble with pockets of burning debris. It was a long run to the Hammer command base. A long run with little cover and an army of demons chasing him.

Javik knew that the longer he stayed in his position the more time he bought Hammer. The more forces that concentrated on him, the less made it to the base. He was far ahead of the defense lines and clogging the Reaper offensive. While he held his position the remains of the allied forces were regrouping.

Just over fifty husks and cannibals charged against Javik's position. Behind them was a dozen marauders running support. Javik waited until they hit the optimal point. He gunned down husks when they got close and bided his time while the marauders took up position right where he wanted them. Right before they broke formation to spread out in the ruined building, Javik threw one of his last two grenades into their ranks. The marauders were gone and now only the cannibals remained. He took careful shots and dwindled them down. Only one made it close enough to make a scratch and Javik subsequently used up his last pack of medi-gel.

The wave was gone and Javik stood alone in the rubble again. Rage pulsed through his body as he screamed to the skies. Above him he saw the Citadel with its open arms and the Crucible attached to it. The center of his civilization stood in the skies above him but right now it felt as impossible to reach as it did in his cycle.

He screamed again but this time his scream was answered. Banshees. A wave of pure banshees were making their way toward him. Dozens, maybe more, were rapidly advancing with biotic warps.

Javik knew his odds. He had taken down banshees before but he knew he was no match for this many. Before they even got close, he knew what he had to do. He took his final grenade from his belt and prepared himself.

The banshees were upon him in seconds. They jumped in rapid succession, toppling rubble as they went. Javik fired into the nearest one, wearing down its barriers. Then he launched a dark channel along with continued fire, bringing it down. Behind that banshee were dozens more. They quickly cornered him while he fired franticly at their barriers.

A biotic blast launched his rifle from his hands. A banshee warped up to him and grabbed him by the waist with its elongated hands. It brought Javik's face close to its and screeched with its mangled maw. Javik chuckled and brought his last lift grenade up close for the banshee to see.

"Ha, primitives."

In the sky above him a red glow started to emanate from the Crucible. Javik and the banshees looked together at the strange phenomenon. For a moment they were both dumbfounded. A smile formed on Javik's face while a look of dread wrapped its way around the banshee's misshapen heads.

* * *

Meanwhile, Tali and Garrus were rapidly losing ground. The Reaper forces had pushed them to the edge of the parking lot roof. A steady stream of enemies had forced them to reposition themselves and slowly move back. They were now only a handful of blocks from Hammer.

"I think we can make it to the building behind us!" Tali shouted to Garrus through shotgun fire.

He stole a glance behind him and assessed the odds of making the jump. They were on a three story parking garage with an office building behind it. The office was taller but all its windows were shot out. It wasn't perfect but maybe he could make it. "Are you sure?" he asked.

A banshees piercing shriek mixed with a brute's growl drowned out his concerns. "Beats staying here!" Tali retorted.

"You go first," He said.

"Don't be stupid! You've got the sniper rifle," Tali shot back. "You go first and I'll cover your jump. Then you cover me!"

He was about to grunt disapproval when she stared him down. He didn't need to see her face to read the expression. "Fine, but you go right after me okay?"

"Just go, you metal bird!"

Garrus jumped from behind a collapsed wall and took pot shots with his assault rifle. Tali took up a firing line for him and he turned to jump. He didn't get as much of a running start as he would have liked but he still managed to make it through the office building window.

He popped up quickly and started firing with his sniper rifle to provide cover for Tali. Tali activated her combat drone and took a handful of shots at the advancing cannibals.

"Jump Tali!" Garrus shouted from behind her. She took another shot with her shotgun and then made the jump. She was carrying heavier gear and just barely made it through with a helping hand from Garrus. The two took cover behind an office wall and continued their fight.

The roar of brutes came rattling through the office walls of the building. Tali looked at Garrus. He was panting, clearly tired and in need of rest. He turned and made eye contact behind their meager cover. She looked exhausted. Her gear was starting to wear and her suit needed patching up. The two kept eye contact for a moment longer then reloaded in unison.

They jumped from cover expecting an army of brutes to be waiting. What they saw was hundreds of Reaper forces standing still and staring into the sky. All of them had stopped to stare at the Citadel, which was pulsing red. Garrus and Tali joined them.

"Spirits!" Garrus cried under his breath.

* * *

Back at the forward command center the remaining forces were getting pounded by Reaper ground forces. Right flank had been secured by the Normandy crew and company but the front wall was wavering.

When James and Liara reached the front wall husks were already crawling up the sides like bugs and ripping Marines from their posts. James jumped on a heavy turret while Liara used her machine gun to keep the husks off the remaining troops.

The front wall acted like a funnel and helped Hammer surround the incoming Reaper forces. The funnel shape of the forward flank also helped the Reapers divide the allied forces if they pushed hard enough. Right now they were pushing harder than ever. Reinforcements were taking their time setting up and the front wall was finding itself quickly under-staffed.

Liara did her best to cover the husks that made it past James but the sheer number of them made her task almost impossible. Hundreds of the shambling monsters were running at the front wall. For every ten James brought down with turret fire, another twenty five got through. For every handful Liara shot off the wall, dozens made it to the top. It looked as if Hammer would fall when EDI appeared.

EDI helped Liara managed the wall and shot off a decoy into the horde of husks below. She led the decoy through their forces and used it to bait them into James firing line. The husks responded just as EDI had planned and rushed away from the wall and towards the decoy.

James unleashed on the distracted monsters. "Like ducks in a barrel!" He shouted.

"Did you mean sitting ducks or fish in a barrel?" EDI asked over the roar of the turret.

"Um, both?" James answered.

EDI ignored him and started making her way around the barricade to the right side, shooting husks off the wall as she went. Liara mirrored her and shifted to the left. James kept up the hellfire in the middle while they worked their way along the perimeter of the front wall. When they were both in position, Liara and EDI unleashed and shredded the husks trapped in the middle.

They kept up this tactic and managed to grind the massive husk wave into Reaper pulp. By that time reinforcements had started setting up more turrets and positioning more soldiers along the top of the wall. Liara and James left their position as troops took their place and made for the center of the base for ammo and re-supply. EDI stayed put and kept firing at the incoming husks.

"EDI you need to re-stock, take a rest!" Liara shouted back at EDI.

"Incorrect doctor. I not require rest or recharge," EDI called back calmly. "I have plenty of thermal clips, I will stay here."

Liara walked over to EDI knowing she had not stopped fighting since Shepard entered the beam. She placed a hand on her shoulder, "You need to take a rest."

EDI turned instantly and faced Liara, never turning her gun away from the husks. "No," she commanded Liara. "I am fine here I have to keep fighting," She said motioning her head upward.

Liara looked at the Crucible and guessed, "Shepard?"

"No," EDI responded, turning back to the battle. "Jeff."

* * *

Joker and the Normandy were with Shield. They were currently running intercept on a Reaper dreadnought that had decided not to charge but instead take opportunity shots with its superior firepower. Joker was timing his shots, hitting weak points when the Reapers weapons were almost fully charged. This interrupted its firing sequence, leaving it vulnerable. The strategy adopted on Rannoch was proving itself in space.

Sword was taking the most damage but their strategy, similar to Joker's, was keeping the Reapers at bay, and away from the Crucible. Geth fleets mixed in with Sword were delivering heavy damage themselves. The Reapers were trying desperately to reestablish control over the geth but failed at every turn. They had evolved beyond Reaper control and would build their own future.

Alongside the geth fought the full might of the Quarian flotilla. They comprised a good portion of Shield's firing line. The heavy fleet was busy pounding any Reaper that got too close while patrol fleet ran intercept.

All of the fleets over Earth were taking heavy losses. The desperation of the Reapers was evident in their strategy. Sovereign class dreadnoughts would charge the line against the allied fleet only to be ripped to shreds by combined Thanix cannon firing lines. The Reapers superior strength was brought to nothing when head-to-head against hundreds of ships, all firing at once. The impossible had happened again. The Reapers were fighting scared. Their fear did not reduce them entirely. Each Reaper charge, although fruitless, ate away at Shield's numbers.

The whole sky of the Sol system was ablaze with war. Every allied fleet was present, minus the salarians. They were busy defending Sur'kesh from a similar fate. The bulk of the Reaper's force was being brought to bear above Earth. If the battle were to fail, the galaxy would stand undefended. If this battle was not won, the floodgates would pour out and drown the galaxy.

On Earth and in the sky, Normandy fought on. Shepard's crew was holding out, struggling for air. The galaxy fought for its last breath. It kicked, it screamed, it fought against the waters. It would not drown today.

* * *

The Catalyst had finished speaking. The solutions had been outlined. If Shepard chose, the Reaper's solution would become obsolete. It was now left to Shepard to choose.

Control was possible. The Reapers could be bent to one individual's will. What will could be stronger than Shepard's? Who could be better suited to command an army of gods? If any deserved to stand as master of the Reapers it was Shepard.

Synthesis was also possible. Shepard could join into the Catalyst, broadcasting all their essence into the galaxy. Shepard could unite all synthetics and organics into a new matrix, a new structure. Shepard would become one with all life in the galaxy. Who would be better to join all life? If any could unite organics and synthetics in peace it would be Shepard.

Rejection was also possible. If no choice was made then no new solution would arise. The Reapers would remain the solution. Their dominance would continue. They would remain the apex of evolution: immovable, eternal.

Another solution was available. A solution most frowned upon by the Catalyst. A solution that would not sacrifice what the illusive man had sacrificed. A solution that would not alter the spirit and uniqueness of each organic and synthetic. In contemplating this solution, Shepard remembered the suicide mission at the collector base. The base had been destroyed and it was there that Shepard had decided that the ends don't justify the means. It was there that Shepard had decided that sacrifice had an absolute limit. Never sacrifice who you are. Never bend to your circumstances, overcome them.

This solution was the least acceptable to the Catalyst, but the ideal one to Shepard. Shepard knew that it might destroy all synthetics. Shepard knew the consequences and the sacrifices. In this moment, Shepard finally faced the irrefutable truth. The truth that Shepard had learned watching the inevitable death of a small boy on earth. Shepard knew that not all can be saved and so marched toward the power conduit, gun raised.

* * *

You cannot save them all.

The truth of war. The truth that Shepard had fought so hard against for the past three years. The truth that had haunted Shepard's dreams. The truth that Shepard had tried so hard to overcome.

Shepard realized that not all can be saved, but damned if it was still worth the effort.

* * *

Harbinger had received a message from its creator. Shepard had defied synthesis, the dream of its creator. The 'ideal' solution in the mind of its master. Harbinger would continue the cycle, as it always had.

Red pulses shot out from the Citadel, destroying towers and structures along its surface. A bolt of red lightning shot out and struck a Reaper, closer to the Citadel than Harbinger. Instantly the monster went limp. It no longer communicated with Harbinger. It didn't even broadcast the signals of indoctrination that most 'dead' Reapers did.

Harbinger had experienced fear only one other time in its existence. When it was first 'born,' Harbinger was terrified. It held the intelligence of an entire race and power far beyond what had ever been assembled. It was terrified of its god-hood. It screamed with the might of nations until its creator calmed it.

Its creator was cold in those first moments. It spoke sternly of Harbinger's purpose and origin. The intelligence was a harsh master, and a cold father.

Harbinger felt fear for the second and last time. Its master was quiet. It no longer spoke to Harbinger. It was as quiet as the dead Reaper floating helplessly by the Crucible. Harbinger feared for its existence. Harbinger had lived for eons. It now faced the certainty of its death and the end of its 'endless' cycle.

Harbinger kept charging, despite its fear. It launched itself headlong into the Crucible's red light. It flew past the ships of the organics as they fled. It struggled, believing it could end it all if only it were faster. The cycle could continue if only it could reach the Crucible to stop all this. Its father and master could be alive if only it could cross this one last distance.

The organic fleets entered FTL jump, evacuating the battle as the Crucible charged up. All across the sol relay, the allied fleets were retreating to the rendezvous point. The Reapers did nothing. They had noted the Catalyst's silence. Their creator no longer spoke to them. No voice came from their father. Only the vain struggling of Harbinger was heard by them.

The sky was full of Reapers, all of them still and quiet. They watched as Harbinger flew at the expanding red shockwave. They watched as the destructive energy struck him. They saw their leader, Harbinger, die and they all knew fear.

There was nowhere for them to go. There was nowhere to escape to, so they waited. They remained still all across the galaxy. Titans of metal and flesh stood scared, knowing their fate was inevitable.

On earth, in London, many Reaper forces stopped to contemplate the red shockwave coming for them. On countless planets across galaxy they kept fighting. Their Reaper masters did not convey the message of their demise and so they fought on without guidance.

What did they think of in their final moments? What does a god contemplate when it finds itself mortal? What feelings of shock or dismay ran through their labyrinthine minds? Did they think of past cycles? Did the legacy of races past find themselves amid the heart of the Reapers? Did they come to realize their true nature when the end was near? Did they feel guilt?

Philosophers may debate for ages, but there is one truth. Life had found a solution without them. They were no longer necessary. Most of them, most of them thought of nothing and in a flash they were gone and the galaxy could breathe.

* * *

It was raining in London as the sun came up. The bodies of Reaper destroyers lay dead amid the rubble. Reaper ground forces were non-existent. The blast from the Crucible had vaporized them. There was some celebration in the streets but many were no longer present to celebrate. It was a quiet joy. The soldiers of yesterday wept and screamed in relief and sadness.

Many were gone but the cycle was over. The Catalyst was silent. It had been purged from the Citadel and all its systems were gone. The Reapers were truly dead. Their code had been erased and their organic/synthetic biology extinguished. Their artifacts across the galaxy had been destroyed as well. Those that were indoctrinated found their minds free. There would be damage to their brains for years but their free will had been restored. The shackles of the cycle were truly and wholly gone.

The forward command base of Hammer was somber. A huge wave of Reaper forces had been engaged with them before the Crucible blast. The blast had eradicated the Reaper forces but it had also brought down some minor computer equipment and about a third of the active geth.

EDI was looking out upon the ruins of London while rain ran down her mobile platform. She still did not know the fate of Shepard. The base had first erupted into cheers when the Reapers fell but the falling geth around them had cut their cheering short. Hammer had then taken stock of all the resources still left standing and a party had been organized to look for survivors.

Garrus and Tali had been found along with small pockets of wounded soldiers. When the rescue squad had found them, they were both asleep. They had been fighting non-stop for hours on end when the blast had come. When the fighting ended, they both collapsed from exhaustion. The rescue crew had carried the two sleeping squadmates back to the base on gurneys, so as to not disturb their well earned rest.

The rescue crews had not found Javik yet. When the blast came, he was in the death clutches of a banshee. His last grenade was in his hand and he was ready to embrace the ghosts of his fallen comrades. He was so close to the end. He was so desperately close to the vengeance he longed for, to the warrior's death he desired. In a flash it was all taken away. His vengeance was enacted by another. Shepard had saved him, and in doing so, denied him the death he craved.

Javik lie in the rubble of an unknown building, built by primitives. He was 50,000 years away from prothean architecture. He was 50,000 years away from his dead squad, but they haunted him still. Their faces and their betrayal flashed across his mind. He remembered all the vivid details as if he were still grasping his memory shard. The shard was in his pocket, wrapped in cloth to keep it from his touch. He had taken it into battle with him, fully expecting it to become his tombstone.

The image of lieutenant Vanen charging against Javik and his squad came back like a nightmare. His friends and allies rushed headlong into his own gun-fire. They threw themselves at Javik again and again, never stopping until he killed them. They never yielded, they never tired, they never showed mercy.

* * *

Vanen came at Javik with his gun raised. Javik had no choice but to cut him down. A quick stroke of his sword brought him to the ground. Javik leaned down to comfort Vanen but he lashed out at him. Javik tried to calm him down, to get him to recognize him, but he only fought back. Vanen was bleeding from his torso, where Javik had cut him. Javik pinned him to the ground to stop his struggling.

"I am your commander!" Javik shouted. "You will stop fighting!"

"You would destroy us," Vanen grunted back, still struggling under Javik. "You would keep us from ascension."

"Listen to yourself! The Reapers have taken everything from you. Why would you join them?"

"It is the only way."

"I am your commander!" Javik shouted with his hands now on Vanen's neck. "I command you to stop fighting!" He only squirmed in response. "Please, Vanen. Do you not remember me? I am your commander!"

"You are a traitor!" Vanen managed to say through his closing throat.

"I am your friend!" Javik screamed at the top of his lungs. Vanen scratched at Javik's arms as he choked him. Javik pressed his hands tighter over his neck until Vanen's arms went limp. Then he kept squeezing, until all the light was gone from his friend's eyes. Vanen lay dead on a battlefield fifty millennia away.

Javik sobbed openly as he broke his mind away from the memory. He possessed no tear ducts but the rain made up for it. Hundreds of tragic memories came flooding back to him. He was tempted to take the memory shard from his pocket and descend forever into his nightmares. A recent memory stopped him however.

"Better to let old ghosts rest," Shepard had told him.

Javik slowly came out of his nightmares. The present acted as a light at the end of his tunnel. The fresh memories helped to cloud out the sorrow of his past. They were not all gone at once, but for now he could move beyond them.

He stood up from where he had been huddled since the explosion. His joints were stiff and his muscles sore. His mind was in need of rest. He touched his memory shard to be sure it was still there. He knew someone who could use it.

* * *

Liara T'soni was sifting through post battle reports back at Hammer base. Most of the allied fleets had made it safely to the rendezvous point and were now starting to regroup over Earth. The relays were damaged but some FTL communications were still working. As far as Liara could tell, the Reapers were dead everywhere.

Liara sighed in relief as she read the reports coming from Thessia. All Reaper Forces Defeated, the headline read. The story was frantic and hastily written but it conveyed the relief and disbelief of the galaxy. The utterly impossible had happened. Liara was still having trouble wrapping her mind around the scope of it all. An endless cycle had ended. It was finished.

She began to cry as more reports from her many agents came in. She had to stop reading and rest her head on the toppled pillar she had been using for a seat. She started sobbing. All of Normandy squad minus the commander and Javik had reported in or been found by a response team.

Her thoughts lingered on Javik. He had promised to help her write her book on protheans. Ever since Thessia he had been warmer to her. He had at first been cold to Liara, saying that he had never even seen his homeworld, that it was a ruin before he was even born.

In time, he had opened up to her. Brief glances in the corridors of Normandy and oddly long conversations over the comms had shown her a different Javik. He spoke grimly at first but then moved on to stories about his squad. She could sense his loss in each story, each description of a fallen comrade.

He had learned more about her as well. She had spoken of her childhood on Thessia and her fascination with all things Prothean. He was dismissive and used the word primitive a lot at the start, but through contact he learned much about manners.

One particularly rude use of the word 'primitive' had earned him a slap from Liara. In that slap he learned plenty about Liara's rage. He also experienced memories of her own sorrow and times when she was fueled by anger. It gave him a greater appreciation of the doctor and a greater fear of her rage.

Liara started crying anew as she recalled that memory. Her memories of Javik were too few. She wanted desperately to receive a notification on her omni-tool of his survival. She needed him to be alive.

"There wasn't enough time," she thought. "There's never enough time."

* * *

Rain was still pounding London outside. Liara could see from the doorway as the Normandy crew helped coordinate search and rescue. All resources were being funnelled toward finding survivors.

"All those people," she thought to herself. "All those teams searching, all those refugees. Someone needs to help them collate a survivors list."

She jumped from her seat and marched off into the base courtyard. There she saw multiple triage tents set up and doctors of all types helping the wounded. She marched up to whom she thought looked the most authoritarian and introduced herself.

"Do you have anyone managing a survivors list?" she asked.

"Ma'am, if you're looking for a friend or loved one I can't help you. We just have too many names to sort through," the soldier responded.

"I'll take that as a no," she replied. "Well not to worry you have one now." Liara then set to getting the names of all the patients in tents. She formed a master list on her omni-tool and broadcast it to all nearby rescue teams to update. Then she cross-referenced her updating list with all confirmed MIA's and started compiling a next of kin notification list.

She was halfway through the H's when someone shouted, "Hey blue! Someone's asking for you." Liara turned to see Jack on the barrier wall. "And he's really ugly," Jack finished. She pointed towards the refugee entrance that was currently crowded.

Liara didn't understand who it could be as she made her way in the direction Jack had pointed. As she got farther into the crowd of refugees she could see a small huddle forming around an unknown individual. She was perplexed as to who it could be. Almost all of the Normandy squad was accounted for. Almost everyone had reported in.

"Away from me primitives," commanded an angry voice.

"Oh goddess," Liara thought to herself. She wove her way through the crowd to get closer to Javik.

"Do not touch that, it is older than your entire civilization," grumbled Javik.

She finally pushed through the crowd and saw him. The last prothean stood before Liara, bruised, limping, and grumpy as ever.

"I am sorry I did not report in sooner. I find your primitive communications clumsy and wasteful," Javik said beneath a half concealed smile.

"You stubborn varren," Liara sniffed as her tears started to build up.

"I brought you something," he laughed, holding up his memory shard. "It will help you write your book."

Liara grabbed the shard out of his hand and corrected, "You will help me write it." Javik laughed once and then collapsed into her arms from exhaustion.

* * *

When the Crucible released its destructive payload through the Citadel it also detached from the station. The force of the explosion and the mass effect fields of the Crucible ripped a good chunk of debris along with it. The Crucible debris cloud also held a large bubble of breathable atmosphere, kept in place by the Crucible's still intact mass effect core.

The Crucible's orbit rapidly decayed but the Citadel stayed in position thanks to its many self preservation and regulation systems. These systems were currently on overclock. Armies of Keepers were descending upon the station, removing the stench of the Reapers and their master. With the Catalyst completely purged from the Citadel, the keepers were now fully in control. Their harness had been removed and they went about their tasks with renewed purpose.

Over a million keepers were combing the station for hull damage and atmosphere breaches. The death tally would have been much higher had it not been for their relief efforts. C-sec was coordinating search and rescue but would often find rubble completely removed and individuals rescued by the keepers before they even got close.

Reaper ground forces had been pumped into the station when it was taken to earth. A well supplied and prepared C-sec combined with a civilian militia had kept battle deaths relatively small. The station was bruised and bloodied but still standing. For years to come the Citadel would become a symbol of self reliance and community strength, a far sight from its pre-war image.

The Citadel arms had sustained damage from the blast but it was far better off than it could have been. The Crucible explosion had killed thousands on the station and the initial blast had shut down nearly all electrical systems. What most perceived as a full system reset was actually the erasure of all the Reaper code installed on the station. The Citadel now belonged to the sentients of the cycle.

Their freedom had been delivered by a great shepherd. A shepherd who had given everything to preserve them. A shepherd who was quick approaching earth's atmosphere, suspended in a cloud of element zero and Crucible debris.

Shepard had been knocked out in the first blast and floated off with the debris. As luck would have it, the Crucible's element zero core was intact and functioning. Mass effect suspension systems, which had been installed last minute, were slowing the debris' re-entry.

The Crucible was the greatest feat of engineering ever assembled by a cycle and a decision had been made to introduce some self preservation function for the device. In another instance, such a precaution would have been considered a frivolous waste of resources. However, the war was more than amply supplied by the efforts of Shepard and so the system was wired in. Shepard did not know it, but the allies they had gathered together had saved their life.

As the Crucible hit the mesosphere the inertial dampeners kicked in. The Crucible and its debris cloud slowed down significantly. Shepard's limp body was packed in a pocket of atmosphere with sections of Crucible hull acting as a heat shield.

When the debris cloud got halfway through the stratosphere the eezo core flared up. The mass of the cloud was reduced to almost zero to slow descent. The debris was compacting itself, with the Crucible's eezo core at the center. Shepard was now pressed against the side of the Crucible hull, near the eezo core.

At six kilometres up, the eezo core had reduced the whole cloud's mass to less than a paper clip. Small bits of wreckage on the edge of the cloud were falling out of the influence of the mass effect field and were falling to earth.

The cloud was over london, having orbited the earth almost once from its high perch. Bits of rubble were striking rooftops and soon many eyes were focussed on the massive cloud of Crucible fragments falling from the sky.

When the it hit ground, the eezo core was running at full capacity and the inertial dampeners had almost burnt out. In the end, the remaining cloud of detritus touched down in a field of toppled buildings with a gentle thud. The crash took zero lives and in fact raised the survivor count by one.

* * *

Search and rescue teams came down on the Crucible wreckage with the swiftness and force of a flash flood. They never found anyone crushed by the debris as anyone standing in the cloud's path had plenty of time to evacuate due to its slow descent.

Among the ranks of the rescue team were Tali and Garrus. One of them searched for their best friend, the other for the love of their life. The rest of Normandy squad was at the command base, taking a well deserved rest.

Aside from a handful of search and rescue teams, the whole of London was resting. The stress and certainty of death had been lifted. The ocean waters no longer lapped at their neck. They were no longer drowning. The galaxy could breathe for the first time in years.

Across the galaxy people were taking the time to catch their breath. Bitter enemies were embracing in celebration. After a day of sorrow, the relief of a galaxy was shining through.

An elcor living tank dropped its shoulder mounted tanks and joined its friends and family in celebration. A squad of asari commandos sat roasting dinner as they shared stories and war wounds. A volus financier opened a bar tab for any c-sec officer on his ward. A group of C-sec officers took him up on his offer with utmost enthusiasm. A galaxy breathes in a full breath of air, a galaxy saved from drowning.

In the Hammer command center, James Vega, Kaidan Alenko, Steve Cortez, and Jack were all playing cards. Vega and Alenko were sharing stories of training in the alliance while Jack told Cortez about her students. The holo-card deck wasn't working like most of the minor electrical equipment so they were reduced to physical cards. None of the players minded and had all taken the opportunity to slip a card up each of their sleeves.

In six minutes they would all show their cards, to reveal five aces and four jacks of spades. Until that fist fight however, they simply talked and enjoyed the absence of gunfire in the distance.

Across the courtyard Liara and Javik were sitting in a triage tent. He was laying down in a medical cot while she sat nearby looking at her omni-tool. Medics had remedied most of his wounds and had prescribed a good dose of bed-rest.

Javik turned his head to look at Liara as she read. "What are you reading Liara?"

"I'm looking through reports from my field agents," she replied.

"What are they saying?" he asked.

"Mostly, they're overjoyed," she said, looking up from her omni-tool. "We did it. Shepard really did it." She sighed and let her body visibly relax. "I still can't believe it."

"My whole life I fought them," Javik said turning his head to face the sky. "I fought them from before birth." A sadness began to well up in his throat. "And its finally over." Liara looked down him, surprised by his sudden show of emotion. "I don't know what to do now," he confessed.

"You'll live," Liara responded. Javik turned to face her again. "You're going to live, and you're going to make me a fortune with this book." Liara tapped on her omni-tool to set it to record. "Now, tell me about yourself."

Javik smiled back at her and started dictating. "I was bred a soldier, and I lived like a soldier. In my time I had no family, I had comrades…"

In the tent next to them was EDI's mobile platform. It was laid down, as if sleeping, on a gurney. Joker and the Normandy had encountered engine malfunctions and were currently adrift in open space. EDI was coordinating with the allied fleets and trying to get the Normandy's systems back online simultaneously. The Normandy crew kept busy but was relieved to hear all the news coming in from earth.

The whole galaxy was getting ready for a long golden age. Every sentient species had been united under one banner. They had fought together and had come out scraped and bruised but still standing. The galaxy was catching its breath. The ache of war and conflict had worn heavy on every sentient. everyone was finally getting a chance to breathe easy.

On Thessia, asari praised the goddess and joined to celebrate and remember the lost. On Sur'kesh, salarians took a moment to assess their sacrifices and count the seashells. On Tuchanka, krogan bellowed chants of victory and celebrated the coming of their young. On Khar'shan, batarians crawled out from their ruins and saw the hegemony and the Reapers gone. On Rannoch, quarians and geth celebrated together for the first time in history. On every inhabited planet people cheered, relaxed, drank, and caught their breath.

On earth, under a hill of rubble, clad in N7 armor, Shepard took a breath.


End file.
